Page 37 of Christmas With A Billionaire

“When’s the last time you saw Black artists under thirty commanding these prices?”

“It’s about access,” his colleague argued. These kids now have studios, mentors, connections...”

“They have a future,” the first critic finished.

I shifted my attention back to Autumn, who danced between groups, introducing artists to collectors, explaining techniques to critics, and hugging proud parents. In her element, radiant with joy, she embodied everything this project stood for.

Near midnight,as the last guests departed, I found Autumn in her gallery, studying a piece from one of her first mentees.

“He used to paint in the museum basement because he couldn’t afford studio space.”

“Now he teaches at the Art Institute.” I stood behind her, pulling her back against my chest. “Thanks to you.”

“Thanks to us.” She leaned into me. “This whole project... it’s everything I ever dreamed of.”

“Not everything.” I turned her to face me. “There’s still Christmas morning.”

“What’s happening Christmas morning?”

“That would be telling.” I kissed her softly. “But I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

“No hints?”

“None.” I lifted her hand, kissing each finger. “We should head to Rose’s. She’s expecting us for late dinner.”

“It’s almost midnight!”

“Since when has that stopped her from feeding people?”

Autumn laughed. “True. Let me grab my coat.”

As she walked away, I touched the small box in my pocket that I’d carry until tomorrow’s dinner. Rose had helped me plan every detail, from the timing to the perfect moment.

“Ready?” Autumn called.

I joined her at the door, taking in the space one last time - the art, the dreams, the love poured into brushstrokes. But mostly, I took in her, standing there in her burgundy gown, more beautiful than any masterpiece.

Chapter 15

Autumn

Christmas Day

The aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg wafted through Pearl’s on Christmas morning, mixing with the scent of Rose’s sweet potato pie. Red and green stockings hung along the exposed brick wall behind the counter, each embroidered with a family member’s name. A massive fir tree commanded one corner, its branches heavy with ornaments collected over decades – many handmade by the kids in Rose’s extended family.

Everyone was here – my family and Tyson’s.

Michael’s twins raced between tables, their new Christmas sweaters already dusted with cookie crumbs. Madison skidded to a stop in front of me, brandishing a candy cane. “Aunt Autumn! Did you see what Santa brought me?”

“Show me, princess.” I scooped her up as she dug through her tiny purse, producing an art set with professional-colored pencils.

“Uncle Ty said these are just like yours!” Her eyes shone. “Will you teach me to draw like you?”

“Of course I will.” I kissed her forehead, catching Tyson’s eyes across the room, where he helped Rose arrange platters of ham and turkey. He winked, and my heart did that familiar flip it had been doing since our first kiss in this very building.

“There’s my girl!” My stepmother Diana, swept in, pulling me into a hug that smelled like her signature perfume and fresh-baked rolls. “You look radiant.” She held me at arm’s length, studying my face. “Love suits you.”

It was no secret that Rose had told everyone in the family that Tyson and I were dating. Everyone kept adding their ‘finally’ into the mix whenever they heard it, and I knew they couldn’t wait to bring it up today.

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